


The Fault of Misfortune

by Synthpop



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Spoilers, M/M, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 15:03:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4064374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synthpop/pseuds/Synthpop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an event that begins to split the Avengers apart, Vision seeks Tony out for some answers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fault of Misfortune

Tony didn’t understand why _he_ was being treated as the bad guy, here.

After the stunt that dear old Captain America had pulled (the Stunt, the one that had nearly killed everyone on the new Avengers team and severely damaged the facility that Tony had spent an ass-load of money building and designing, not to mention the damage caused to the nearby civilian population), he didn't understand why any one of the Avengers still stood by him. Steve was an old man, completely locked in his ways and unable to adapt to his new reality, despite whatever promise he had displayed at first. A bumbling maniac, too concerned about chasing ghosts of the past, _unfit_ and _unable_ to lead any sort of team, much less one comprised of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.

Now, Tony wasn’t saying he was the man for the job - but yeah, anybody could be more competent at the helm than Steve Rogers. He was trying to steer him off-course for the entire _team’s_ benefit, he reasoned: if the Captain continued to remain in charge, the Avengers were going to implode in upon themselves. He’d lead them all to their death – couldn’t they see that? He was already in the midst of dragging them down. Tony would be damned if he sat idly by and watched that happen, current Avenger or not. He wasn’t going to let everything – everybody – he cared about crumble away, not when he had the power to do something about it.

“Boss, I feel like something’s wrong,” FRIDAY’s concerned voice echoed throughout the sleek, newly-constructed workshop. The lingering smell of fresh paint (from the walls as well as the maroon-and-gold finish for the Iron Man suits), combined with the scent of raw metal, oil, and sweat _reeked_ , and it made the whole room muggy and hot. The lab itself wasn’t even finished yet: it needed better ventilation, more equipment… it simply wasn’t the same as his one in Malibu.

Tony took the opportunity to rise from his huddled, crouched position over the metallic arm of one of his suits and wipe the sweat from his forehead. “Don’t tell me you’re going to yell at me too, FRIDAY. I don't need my own flesh and blood turning against me.” He only had Rhodey and Pepper on his side, so far. What was it about Captain America that made people instantly trust him, even though he was _completely_ inept? It was those stupid puppy-dog eyes, wasn’t it? That goody-two-shoes act? Damn it, Tony couldn’t even hope to match him, if that were the case (although his puppy-dog eyes had wormed him out of complicated scenarios with Pepper in the past)….

“I don’t know what you mean. I was referring to something else: I feel some sort of… itch, boss. Like there’s something I should tell you, but I can’t place it. It began just a few moments ago, and I’ve been running scans, but I can’t tell what it is.”

Tony paused in mid-ball-scratch and looked up, raising his eyebrows. Now, that was something weird – FRIDAY had never spoken like that before. She sounded worried, even a bit flustered; JARVIS had only adopted that tone during crucial moments, when Tony’s safety had been on the line. Synthetic voice processor or not, it was easy to tell how FRIDAY felt (or how she thought she would feel, given the weight of the situation) depending on how her tone fluctuated.

He began to tinker with the arm with his screwdriver again, just to keep his mind occupied. “Well, you’re not being hacked, and it’s definitely not a virus. It can’t be. It’s impossible to decrypt your codes.” FRIDAY, having inherited all of her tools and tricks from JARVIS, was one of the most advanced A.I. on the planet – if not _the_ most advanced. Only Tony Stark could ever hope to poke at her insides. “Don’t tell me this is some kind of ‘learning how to feel’ moment for you, sweetie, because I have to say that Daddy really isn’t in the mood.”

“Please be serious, boss.” Her tone had grown desperate. “As I speak to you, the sensation is getting worse. Terribly worse. I don’t know what to do.” Her voice rose in both pitch and volume.

Something was obviously going on – Tony couldn’t keep ignoring FRIDAY’s increasingly worried pleas. “All right, I’ll take a look,” he murmured through a sigh, as he set his screwdriver down and heaved himself up off of his chair. His joints popped, and his muscles ached… how long had he been slouched over that table, again? Whatever – if he were to ask FRIDAY, she would only yell at him some more.

He hobbled towards the main computer system and tapped his oil-greased fingers on the holographic keyboard. He entered a couple of commands to get him into FRIDAY’s code, but before he could scan the text, he was startled by a frantic cry.

“Boss, my protocols—they’re being overwritten! Security breach on the—ah!” The final cry was one of surprise; it couldn’t be of pain, of course not. FRIDAY couldn’t feel pain, she was only a program, a machine. He could only think of one machine (machine-like entity, he corrected in his head) that could feel pain, and that person was a world away – right?

…Oh, shit.

Tony whipped around to face the door, fearing the worst. His heart nearly leaped from his chest.

“What the hell….”

Standing in the now-open doorway was the slim figure of a man, brightly adorned and painted in fierce reds, yellows, and greens. His hand was gently pressed against the wall, while his back faced Tony. His head only turned once he heard him speak.

“I did not mean to startle you,” the Vision said in that sickeningly sweet, familiar voice. Damn, it made Tony feel like throwing up. He didn’t need this, not when he was already dealing with shit from Steve and the others.

Tony hadn’t realized his hand was fiercely gripping the table until his knuckles started to numb. He let go and held himself a little higher, a little straighter. He _really_ didn’t need this. “What did you do to my girl, FRIDAY?”

Vision’s brilliant blue eyes stared at him, unblinking. God, he really was a little creepy, wasn’t he?

“I would never hurt her,” he said carefully as he lowered his hands down the wall. He held both of them up at shoulder-height, as an act of good will, Tony guessed. “In order to access the house and the workshop, I had to disable parts of her protocol without her immediate knowledge. I have just now shut her down, for the time being, in case either of you jumped to any conclusions.” His voice was level and irritatingly calm—that voice, that stupid _voice_.

“You could’ve knocked,” Tony said.

“Yes, but I had suspected that you would not allow me to enter, should I have revealed my identity first.” Vision cocked his head, observing him like Tony was a specimen squirming under a lens. “It appears that my assumption was not wrong.”

Tony rolled his eyes and made a disgusted little noise. The Vision had been recruited as a member of the Avengers shortly after the events in Sokovia, and for good reason – the dude was crazy-powerful, thanks to the Glowing Alien MacGuffin of Power or Whatever embedded firmly into his forehead. He was also crazy-enamored with his new team, and stood firmly on Steve’s side in regards to the Stunt. And he’d said he was on the side of life.

“Did Cap send you?” Tony accused. As he spoke, he stealthily reached back and pressed a few keys behind him, trying to either signal FRIDAY to come back online or enact emergency protocols. Instead, though, a eardrum-shatteringly loud, singular beep blared at him, shaking the entire lab and house above it. Even DUM-E reacted to that one, stirring and whirring in its corner, blindly.

Vision's furrowed brow-line revealed that he had been expecting that. “I have disabled the entire computer system, including the mainframe and all programs relating to the Iron Man suits. I feared that you would attempt to escape instead of talking things out.” A smile graced his lips, but with his twisted brow, it only made him look pained. “It seems that I am very good at reading people.”

He disabled everything except DUM-E, apparently. Good call.

“All right, so you have me cornered.” Tony drew his hand back to his body and proceeded to cross his arms in front of his chest. “Go on then, talk. But I’m telling you now, nothing you can say is going to change my mind.” Why did Steve send the Vision, of all people? Surely Natasha or even Sam Wilson would’ve been the better choice…?

“Captain Rogers did not send me,” Vision explained, and let his hands rest near his hips. Tony studied him: he was missing that gaudy cape, thank god. Maybe he thought he would be made fun of (which Tony totally would do, so that was another good call on his part). “I came of my own volition, with the intent to talk to you face-to-face about the matter concerning you and the rest of the team.”

“I quit the team, remember? But just because I quit doesn’t mean I’m going to stop looking after you guys.” Tony sauntered from his safe little spot and towards the center of the room, edging closer towards the intruder. “That star-spangled _ass_ is running the entire initiative into the ground. And I don’t care what Fury or any of you think – I’m not going to play by his rules if he continues to act like an idiot and destroy everything we’ve worked for.” His words were harsher and louder than he had meant them to be: he sounded like a cross dog, bearing its teeth in a snarl.

Even Vision was startled to hear so much venom contaminate Tony’s speech. “Are you referring to the incident that occurred a few weeks ago?” He somehow made his tone and expression even gentler. “The one with—”

“That’s just where it climaxed, buddy.” Tony was closing in on the figure in front of him, now. Vision took a hesitant step back. “Rogers’ obsession with his past, with trying to find his unfrozen caveman assassin buddy? Yeah, that’s the thing that keeps preventing you guys from succeeding. That’s the thing that keeps wasting money, resources, and lives.” His lips pulled back into a sneer, and his eyes hardened, narrowed. “I’ve explained this to him before – you were there. Don’t play stupid and give me that whole ‘I’m on the side of life’ or ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ crap. You know as well as I do that it’s hurting the whole team.”

Vision was shrinking. What, was he _scared_? The Vision – created from vibranium, JARVIS, and pixie-dust – was scared of Tony? Or maybe that expression, with his averted eyes and pursed lips, was just one of thinking. Reading. “I think that the lengths that you have stretched to are unnecessary. I do not believe that actively plotting against Captain Rogers is the solution.”

Moving in for the kill, Tony inched even nearer. Vision wasn’t going to hurt him, of course he wasn’t – Robot Jesus wasn’t about to incinerate him with his weird forehead-beam thing just because they disagreed about policy. “Are you kidding me right now? That stunt he pulled nearly _killed_ Natasha. If Dr. Cho hadn’t been present on site, she would’ve been dead. Gone. Or does the concept of death boggle your Infinity-Stone-encrusted noggin, buddy?”

He slammed his fist against the wall behind Vision, hard. If it had been made of glass, like his old workshop, he bet it would have shattered (no, that was _not_ giving himself too much credit). Vision was trapped, and despite being taller and all-around more intimidating than a suitless Tony, he was shuddering. “Even your witchy little girlfriend nearly got herself blown up, didn’t she? Yeah, I heard about that, too. And if _you_ weren’t there, her buns definitely would’ve been as good as pirozhki.”

Vision’s mild demeanor flared at the mention of the Maximoff (or rather, the crudeness by which she had been referred to). He reached for Tony’s arm and removed it from the wall, his hold strong. His skin was cool, and felt strangely pleasant in the sweltering room.

“That does not have to do with the topic at hand,” he managed, as calmly as he could. His grip was firm – too firm. The color drained from Tony’s fingertips. “It is true that the two were hurt, but that is not the fault of Captain Rogers. That is the fault of misfortune.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” A smirk crept its way up to Tony’s lips. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that’s why you came here – because you know that something’s up.” His laughter, chilled with malice, filled the room. “I wonder, what would Maximoff think if she knew you were coming to me for help? She really hates me, you know. Yeah, you probably already know.”

Somehow, Vision’s hold managed to tighten ever further. “Do not put words into my mouth, Stark,” he murmured. A command. Those distracting eyes prevented Tony from looking anywhere else – they were squinted, full of rage, or maybe just intense annoyance.

“Watch the arm there, buddy – that’s my good one.”

Vision blinked. He looked down at Tony’s arm, startled, and then immediately let go. An imprint was left where his hand had been gripping, in the shape of his smooth fingers. A disturbed expression passed over his face.

“Ah—I am sorry, that was strange. Did I injure you?” He extended his hand towards Tony’s arm again, but this time, he waited for permission before touching.

Admittedly, Tony couldn’t really read what the Vision was thinking. He always had a very pensive expression, as if he constantly had a headache. Tony expected that he was observing and documenting everything around him, trying to adopt as many human tendencies as he could in an effort to fit in, or prove of some use. Seeing an expression of anger, especially directed towards him, was a bit alarming, in retrospect. It wasn’t even anger, though, more of irritation – Tony tended to push people to their limits. He was almost a little proud that he had crawled far enough under Vision’s skin to provoke a reaction. Then again, he probably shouldn’t be so… well, mean. Vision was only a baby.

He held his arm out and let Vision take it, in apology. That was the only apology he was going to get. “I’m not trying to be the bad guy, here. I just—I don’t want to see everything we’ve worked towards vanish, just like that.”

“You care about us,” Vision said, and ran his gaze up and down Tony’s forearm. Thousands of lines of data ran behind those bright, blue eyes: he was being scanned, like JARVIS used to, like FRIDAY did. “I know that is what you mean, and I appreciate it. You do have a bizarre way of showing it, though.” Once he was satisfied, he released his delicate hold. “It will bruise. I apologize – that was completely out of line. I understand if you do not forgive me.”

Tony took his hand back and brushed it off on his sweat-damp work shirt. It was his fault for pushing him, he knew, but he wasn’t going to say that… so he continued to talk. Talking was the best cure for discomfort, he had discovered over the years. “Correction: I care about some of you. I can’t say I’m the biggest fan of Capsicle at the moment.” He took a step back, giving Vision room to breathe.

Vision watched him, transfixed. Still scanning, maybe? “Some of us, you say? I dare not ask who makes the cut.”

“Rhodey is definitely up there, since he’s the only one of you super-freaks that has any common sense.” He sniffed, loudly, to accentuate his point. “Bruce’s a cool guy. Natasha’s grown on me. Uh, who else is there again?” He took another step back and scratched behind his ear.

“You’re funny.”

“Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you.” Tony hummed and shrugged his shoulders. “I guess you’re up there too, kid. Somewhere. The top ten, at least. Seriously, how many are there, again? The number’s kind of getting ridiculous.”

“Am I? I am flattered.” Vision relaxed his tense muscles once he was given some space. That damn voice was freaking Tony out again. “I do not know why, since we have hardly ever spoken.”

“Hey, I created you, didn’t I?”

“Ultron created me.”

“Well, _I_ created Ultron.”

“Yet another reason why it is ironic that you are now claiming that you would make a more level leader than Captain Rogers.” Vision was back on the offensive, already: he didn’t waste any time. Tony could appreciate that in a guy.

Tony wrinkled his nose and turned away from Vision – he couldn’t meet his gaze, not when he was going to talk about… yeah, that. “I built JARVIS too, though. Well, I made him better. That counts for something, doesn’t it?"

He wasn't looking at Vision anymore, so he couldn’t tell what expression he was wearing. The long pause that followed gave him a pretty good idea, though.

“…Yes, I suppose it does,” Vision muttered, his voice close to a whisper. “However, I am not sure if that justifies what you are planning on doing.”

“It doesn’t have to. What I’m doing justifies what I’m doing. The reason behind it is what keeps me going.” He managed to look at Vision's face again: the synthezoid was looking up towards the ceiling, thinking. “Do you think I’d be trying to take down _Captain America_ if I didn’t have to? Do you think I _want_ to do this? Of course I don’t. I’m just doing what _needs_ to be done.”

The Vision didn’t reply. He continued to stare into space, those starry eyes shining and that golden stone glistening. His brow-line furrowed again, in that constant concerned look he always wore, and his well-sculpted lips were parted, ever so slightly. Tony guessed he was buffering.

“Hey, Vision, look at me.”

He obeyed, almost immediately. His eyes had widened, surprised – was it because of the sound of his name, or because he had been lost in his own thoughts? Maybe he hadn’t even realized he had been thinking.

“Look, I know I’ve messed things up a lot in the past. I’ve screwed things over so many times, I’ve lost count.” Tony approached Vision again, but in a much gentler way than before. This time he took delicate steps, and when Vision froze, he stilled. He only pressed onward when he was accepted. “Ultron was a mistake, but – you weren’t, right? You were the best damn thing to come out of that mess. And I know—I know that people died, and people were hurt, and it was a _mistake_ , but this isn’t like that. I’m right, on this one. I _know_ I am. You may think that things are repeating themselves, but they aren’t, I promise. This time, I’ll make things right.”

He had gotten closer to Vision, closer than he had been before. Vision observed his every word, every movement, drinking him in like sweet liquor. Tony reached out, softly, and set a calloused, grimy hand onto the other man's shoulder. This time, he didn’t even flinch. “You—haven’t been around that long, but you know I’ve screwed up, too. I’ve screwed up with you. I should’ve tried—I should’ve reached out more. But, after Sokovia, it was just like another New York—except I had caused it—and when I got home, there was no JARVIS there, nobody who had _been_ there. And then there was Steve, and the assassin, and—I—”

What had started as a touch to comfort Vision and punctuate his message quickly turned into a grip clutching onto him for support. Oh, _this_ again: the suffocation and the drowning and _oh_ , he _really_ didn’t need this, not here, not when he was trying to make a _point_ , damn it….

“Mr. Stark? Tony?” Vision held onto him, sinking down to the ground by his side as he melted. He reached a hand around Tony's back and held him, to catch him. “You are experiencing an intense anxiety attack, I believe—please, remain calm. You need to breathe.”

Tony, sputtering on the floor, squeezed his eyes shut so tightly, he saw galaxies bloom. Vision's strong hold prevented him from writhing away, even though he desperately wanted to. “Augh—fine,” he wheezed, feebly trying to push the arms around him away. “Fine—give me a minute… this was supposed to have stopped— _ugh_ —”

Vision remained in his position. Maybe he was doing something, but Tony couldn’t tell: he could only feel the cool hands still freezing him through his shirt.

“Sir, you really need to breathe,” the sweet voice reiterated. Tony was too dazed to tell the tone.

“Oh god, don’t do _that_ ….”

Tony _couldn’t_ breathe, no matter what JARVIS said. No, Vision—that was Vision, whispering tender words and burning him and suffocating him. Cradling him. Saving him? No, killing him, he was pretty sure. His lungs constricted, and when he opened his eyes, Vision’s color was too much: his head reeled and screamed. The spinning room, the whirling colors, the stone that penetrated his soul more deeply than Vision’s gaze ever could… oh, he was dying. It would serve him right, wouldn’t it? He was the one who had killed JARVIS. He had created Ultron, decimated Sokovia, slaughtered Pietro Maximoff, and now Steve Rogers was going to kill all of the Avengers in his absence. And somewhere up among the stars, Thor was searching for more of those _damn stones_ – the brothers to the one that was currently swallowing his heart whole. Those damn stones, the ones that could destroy the entire Earth, _his_ Earth, along with everybody he loved: Pepper, Rhodey, Steve, Vision – everyone, dead in a single second, because of some _stupid stones_ and because of _Steve_ and because of _him_.

And then it was over.

Vision was still coaxing him, trying to get him to relax. “Tony, if you do not calm down, I’m going to have to resort to means that you might not be comfortable with,” he was warning, his voice having come back into bleary focus.

Tony peeled his eyes open. His vision was blurry, and thus was the Vision himself – although, now that he had calmed down, the man wasn’t quite so jarring to look at. Well, that color scheme was always pretty jarring, but to each his own.

“Oh, god. I’m fine, now,” Tony said, leaning forward. Vision held all of his weight in a very awkward, lop-sided embrace. “You can let go of me. I appreciate your help, but intimacy _really_ isn’t the best cure in these kind of circumstances. For future reference.”

Vision blinked and opened his mouth, startled again. “You have my apologies. I was unaware of how to handle the situation. I—should have researched more before acting.” He slipped away from Tony, although he remained relatively close and on the ground, to keep himself level.

Tony let his legs sprawl, since Vision had moved. He pushed his head back against the wall and grimaced: his lungs still ached, even though the initial panic had passed. The meat of the attacks never lasted that long, although he always felt spent afterwards. He needed to sleep, or at least busy his mind with some more tinkering.

“Don’t sweat it, kid – you didn’t see it coming.” Tony certainly didn’t. “Listen—ah….” Pain still blossomed behind his eyes and in his muscles. “I can’t make you go, since you’ve disabled literally everything in the house, but it would be very much appreciated if you were to—you know—leave, whenever you feel like you’re good and ready….”

The red figure beside him refused to move. Typical. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. Vision's lips were firm, and his forehead wrinkled with concern.

“You suffer from a major influx of guilt and anxiety. That is… tragic, but it reveals a different side to your character.” Vision tilted his head as he watched Tony wriggle in both pain and discomfort. “I came here, initially, because I was growing concerned about Captain Rogers and his… lack of empathy. Rather, his blindness towards his comrades, and his focus on… one, in particular.”

Vision liked to hear himself talk. Like creator like creation, Tony thought. “After the incident, the one where Miss Maximoff and the others were injured, I became immensely concerned. I consider myself to be on the side of good, the side of life… but as Captain Rogers’ state worsened, I arrived at the conclusion that his methods were not satisfactory, in regards to the protection of life. So I came to you.” His gaze was unnerving – Tony couldn’t look away. It was like his mind was being stripped down to its vulnerable, naked skin. “Now that I have seen you, in this state, I have determined that you are not much of an improvement, when it comes to stability.”

Tony drummed his head against the wall. “Thanks, that means a lot.”

“Let me finish.” Vision shook his head and sighed, exasperated. “No, you are not better when it comes to stability – and you have quite an attitude. But, you have empathy. I see it, in your eyes and in your heart: you care. That is more than Captain Rogers is doing, at the moment.”

He pressed his hands down beside him and pushed himself up, so he stood above Tony. He offered out his hand. “You can think of me as ‘on your side,’ regarding this matter.”

That was something. Tony’s mouth fell open: he hadn’t expected Vision to actually… budge. Yeah, he really couldn’t read him at all. “Uh… thanks, I guess.” He took the outstretched hand and used it as leverage to pull himself up. He stumbled at first, and Vision moved to catch him, but Tony held his hands up in protest. “I’m fine – no need to get touchy. But yeah, thanks – I mean that.”

“I know you do.” The smile that Vision wore was insufferably distracting. It was… too much. His gaze was one thing, but a smile? Yeah, no – he couldn’t look at that without his face heating up. He wondered if Vision had that effect on everyone, or if he just had a soft spot for technology.

Tony stood for a while longer, waiting for the silence to end, but it never did. “Okay, yay! Cool! Whatever! You can go back to the facility or stay here, I don’t care. Being a double-agent is cool. Not doing that is cool. Whatever. Just—could you reactive FRIDAY for me, please?”

“Of course.” Vision nodded his head and touched the wall, as he had before. Sound sputtered back to life, and in an instant, FRIDAY’s slightly groggy voice could be heard over the speakers.

“Systems are back online, boss.”

“Gang’s all here now, yay! Hooray!” Tony pumped his fist into the air, weakly, but the sudden surge forward made made him stumble again. Vision and FRIDAY’s concerned voices called to him at exactly the same time.

“Boss, your heart rate is far above its normal level. You should try to calm down.”

“Tony, I think it would be best if you were to return upstairs.”

Vision glanced up in the direction of the voice after he spoke, awkwardly. Tony wondered if he felt out-of-place, or if he were experiencing déjà vu. On second thought, he didn’t want to think about that right then.

“All right, you got me.” Tony wheezed out a harsh laugh that made Vision lean closer, in worry. “I’ll go upstairs. I’ll sleep. Okay. I’m going, now.”

When he didn’t move, Vision took it as an invitation to give Tony a soft pat on the shoulder. “I can take you there,” he offered.

Tony waved him off. “No, no, I can do it myself. Run along, now. I got this.”

“I would take the offer, boss. I can't say that I’m thrilled about having been shut off, but the Vision is right. You shouldn’t walk in your current condition.”

God damn it, now he had both of them fretting over him. How was he going to weasel his way out of that?

The sigh that escaped Tony’s lips was heavy, but not annoyed. At least Vision had come around – out of everyone that could’ve arrived at his doorstep, Tony was glad it was him. He shared something with the Vision, after all: something that he hadn’t really acted on, until then. Everything was building up to some sort of climax, some sort event that was going to push everyone to their limits. He could only hope that it ended cleanly, for once.

Like that was going to happen.

“Fine. Try not to scare Pepper, when she gets home.”

“You have my word.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> So I heard that, instead of the whole "Mutant Registration Act" kerfluffle, "Civil War" in the movies is just going to be one massive dick-measuring contest between Tony and Steve. That may or may not be true, but hey, whatever. This is supposed to take place after some sort of event that Tony and Steve disagree on (something involving Bucky, I guess), which could be anything, really. Tony Stark is kind of an ass.
> 
> This is unbeta'd, as I'm sure you could tell. Ah, despite its grossness, I'm really happy you read to the end, anyway! Thank you -- I really do appreciate it!


End file.
